Bald Lies And The Stranger

Elena’s pov 

The lights of the press conference were hotter than I imagined. I stood on a podium in the Silverton Plaza, my head aching from flashbulbs and roars of a hundred voices. 

Julian had his arm draped around my shoulders, a performance of affection that felt like a chokehold. 

“Mr Silverton! Over here!” a reporter shouted. “ is it true this was a whirlwind romance? Or is this a strategic move for the board vote?”

Julia leaned into the microphone, his voice smooth and charming. “Elena and I found each other through a shared passion for the environment. Her work amongst plant science is something the Silverton Foundation is proud to support. 

He lied with the grace of a professional. It made me sick. 

“Mrs Silverton!” Another reporter yelled. “Some are calling you the Billionaire’s Curvy Consort.’ How do you feel about being a body positivity icon for the elite? 

I froze. Curvy Consort. The words were meant to be kind, but they felt like a mockery. The sea of thin women in the front row kept their judgmental eyes scanning my emerald green dress that strained at my hips.

Speak Elena, my mind whispered. Don’t let them define you. 

“I feel,” I began, my voice trembling but audible, “that a woman’s worth isn’t measured by the space she takes up, but by what she grows within it.”

The room went quiet for a split second. Julian’s grip on my shoulder tightened until it bruised.

“What my wife means,”Julian interrupted, his smile never reaching his eyes, “is that she’s looking forward to the health and wellness retreats we have planned. She’s ready to take healthy measures.”

When we finally escaped the stage and entered the private elevator, Julian slammed his hand against the wall. 

“What the hell was that?” He roared. “What she grow within it? You sounded like a fortune cookie! You were supposed to stay quiet and grateful!”

“I’m not a puppet Julian! I said already broken down with tears flowing freely down my face. “I’m a human  being! You can’t keep doing this to me.”

“I bought everything!” He stepped closer , his chest heaving. I bought your family’s freedom! I bought your sister's safety! If I tell you to be a statue, you become marble!”

I broke completely as I ran out through the elevator, stumbling through the press and into the pouring rain. I walked through the streets under the cold icy rain. I didn’t care. My sandals splashed into deep puddles of mud.

I could still hear my stepmother's voice telling me I was a burden and the echoes of the laughter of the girls  back in high school who tripped me in the cafeteria. 

I was smart but I felt like a discarded toy. No one wanted me. 

“Why am I even trying?” I whispered, my voice already lost.

I had been walking for two hours. My legs had lost strength and the adrenaline that fueled my exit was shivering out of my system. My teeth clattered like they could break sooner.

I sat under a massive oak tree avoiding the rain. My legs grew weak as I sank onto the floor pulling my knees to my chest.I was shaking so hard that my sight blurred till I closed my eyes, letting the tears finally merge with the rain water. 

A pair of bright light beams made me raise my head following  the hiss of tires on wet pavement. I didn’t move. I couldn’t afford to. I watched the light grow blindingly until it stopped right in front of me. 

I caught a male figure step out through my shivering lashes. 

“You’re going to catch your death out here” the stranger said. 

I didn’t know who he was but his hands on my shoulders were subtle and his touch on my thighs were the kind of warmth I needed.  

Before I could protest, I was being lifted and placed in his car. 

I was too tired to notice how tattered and unkept I had been.

The stranger sitting beside me kept staring, he looked like he had lots of questions to ask and I was really in no mood to answer any. 

“Why were you under the rain?” The stranger finally broke the silence. 

I stared blankly at him. I had a lot to say but my words weren’t meant for him. I didn’t  even know him.

“I appreciate you helping me out of the rain but please could you drop me off at the Silverton estate?” I plainly told him. 

“Uhh…m okay, yeah that’s fine.Robert?” He called his Chauffeur. “Take us to the Silverton estate.” He ordered. 

The drive was a silent and odd one as the chauffeur made turns to the destination. 

Two hours later we arrived at the Silverton estate.

 I was soaked, my hair was plastered to my face and my wedding shoes were caked in mud from the street. 

The chauffeur opened the door for me to highlight.

“Thank you for the lift” I was about to come down when he held my arm gently.

“Hold on… I didn’t get your name, he said, staring at me. 

I was a little bit sober now to notice his hazel eyes and his neatly lined brown  suit which was now mud smeared and wet from my body interaction. 

“I’m sorry but I have to go” I was too weak for talk.

“Okay at least here’s my card, I’m Mr—-

I cut him amidst his words as I snatched the card and banged the car door in his face as I walked into the doors of the house.

I was brought back to reality as I shut the front door. The foyer was big and decorated with marble statues, each of them looking like they were worth huge amounts of money. 

I was about climbing the stairs when I spotted Julian coming out of what looks like a study upstairs and he sure sighted me too.

My panic rose in again.

Julian descended the grand foyer staircase slowly, then stopped three steps up, forcing me to look at him. 

“Let’s get one thing straight. In this house, you’re a ghost. You will stay in the servants wing, you will eat when you are told and you will stay out of my sight. I don’t want to run into you whenever I bring my real company home.”

He clearly stated. 

“Stay in the shadows Elena, it’s the only place where you can’t be an eyesore. 

I stood frozen, my heart shattering into jagged pieces as I watched the man I just married walk out on me without even caring about my whereabouts. 

“This way miss” a voice rasped.

I turned to see a man dressed in white cloak, he didn’t take my drenched bag. He simply turned walking towards a narrow dimly lit corridor. 

I took heavy steps as the warmth of the home faded into a drafty chill. He stopped at a heavy oak door and pushed it open.  

The room was tiny, barely the size of a cell. A single raptured bed, a rickety desk, and a window that looked out onto the rainy expanse of the estate. 

I collapsed onto the edge of the mattress, my head in my hands. The weight of the day finally took over as I sobbed heavily. 

I couldn’t blame him, my father in the grave was the one meant  to answer my questions.

Why would he sign a treaty with the silvertons over my head? 

Why would he take ridiculous amounts of loans from different places and use me as coverage? 

What was he doing with all the money when we still had a leaking roof over our heads?

Of all the silvertons why make sure it had to be  this spoiled brat?

And what was so special about the recipe in the journal that he gave me when I already it knew like the back of my hands.